Steve And Natasha + Looking To Each Other

Also, if this interview shows one thing it’s that Joe literally until this day doesn’t see that she was deeply unhappy in this relationship and that’s the sad thing about it

And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive

The smallest man who ever lived.

Julie Andrews

Sweat & Tears

“Are you sure?” the red-haired woman looks at the blonde in front of her, who clearly struggles to take off her sandals. It’s silent in the room, two security guards waiting in the door frame for her. Tree can see clearly how Taylor's hands are shaking, almost like a tremor that has been brewing inside of her for a few hours. She’s fiddling with the buckle of her Gucci heels. Truth is, she’d prefer for Taylor to spend her evening in company of her father and herself over a nice dinner in her suite. Besides the many phone calls Tree has to make, she still cares about Taylor’s well-being first and foremost. And by the sight of it, she absolutely is not well. But knowing the blonde stubborn woman as well as she does, Tree could already tell by the minute they left the venue that Taylor is once again in a rather self-isolating mood. 

“Do you need anything?” she asks then, still watching the long blonde sitting on the couch of her hotel suite, knowing very well that she didn’t get an answer to her last question.

“Do you have water? Let me know if you need anything else. Dinner will be served as soon as you…”

“I told you, I’m not hungry.” Taylor responds then in a tone that tells Tree everything she needs to know. One more push and Taylor might actually loose her temper. She sighs.

“Alright. Call if you need anything. Alex is on call next door. These guys will be just outside your hotel room door for safety.” She says and points to the men right behind her. She looks at Taylor one last time, who is still sitting on the hotel couch, obviously exhausted and down. She doesn’t want to push her any further, but she can’t contain a last “get some rest, Tay. I know this was a rough few days but you’re doing great.”

Taylor doesn’t reply, once more, and Tree gets the message. She gives the three men next to her a look, signaling them to ensure that her door is secured at all times. Tree then leaves the presidential suite, and the big door falls into the lock. 

And suddenly, Taylor's alone. Completely alone. 

She takes a deep breath. She just needs to shower it off. With her hair in a loose bun she covers her eyes for a moment sitting there. She’s tired. So tired. But every time she tries to relax, there’s the same picture in her head. Beautiful Ana’s smiling face. The fact that this young person had to loose her life because she decided to give a concert. Taylor immediately gets up. This thought is unbearable. She needs to stop thinking about this. She walks barefoot over the burgundy carpet of her suite, makes sure the curtains are fully closed before opening the bed sheets. She’s been waiting all day for this. 

Within one second, Taylor has gotten comfortable under these heavy sheets. The air conditioning in the room is on full mode, and she’s thankful for this cooling sensation of the bed sheets on her bare legs. The incredible feeling of crawling into bed after a horrible day. Another thing that Ana will never experience again…

Just when Taylor was about to get lost in these thoughts again is when her phone vibrates for what feels like the fifteenth time tonight. She knew that her mom and Travis had been texting her. But the last thing she could do earlier was to be on the phone when everything went down. Her desperately waiting in her way too warm and stuffy dressing room. Her dad walking up and down, telling her that it’ll be alright and that everybody is on her side. Sweat dripping down her forehead. Tree being on the phone constantly and a bunch of translators running back and forth. And her? Useless just in between the chaos. She wasn’t able to tell anyone at home what was going on. There was no space. No silence. No room to breathe.. until now.

Taylor opens her iMessage chat with Travis and swallows. 18 notifications. 7 calls. He’s worried. Not just because she didn’t pick up or reply to his texts for hours now but also because he had to find out that this show, that she’s been terrified of playing all day, had been postponed last minute through an instagram post on her official handle. Never before did he have to find out something like this through social media.

Your dad told me you’re unwell. Call me when you can. No need to go through this on your own.

His last text makes her smile slightly. He never fails to show her support. And as shocked as she is that he went to the lengths of calling her father, it shouldn’t really surprise her that much. These two have hit it off to an almost greater degree than she and Travis have. Her dad adores him. No wonder these two are chatting behind her back. 

Taylor takes a deep breath, opens her front camera for a second. She looks horrific, tries to fix her bangs for a moment before calling him back. Yes, she knows he won’t care what she looks like but she still wants him to not see her at her worst. Not just yet. Just when Taylor is about to leave her bed to fix her face and her hair is when she gets an incoming FaceTime call from him. She hesitates for a second, then decides to go for it anyways. 

The second he appears on her screen is the second she feels tears boiling up again. She doesn’t know why, but something about seeing his kind face and the worried look in his eyes opens the flood gates for her. She needs him. Oh lord, how much she would love to tell herself that it isn’t so.

“Oh baby” is all he brings out for a second. The little tear escaping Taylor’s eye and rolling its way over her cheek hasn’t remained unnoticed by him. She doesn’t say anything, just makes sure to wipe the incoming tears as much as humanly possible.

“I’m sorry, I…” just when she was about to apologize for how he’s witnessing her right now is when he interrupts her already. 

“Tell me everything. I just got home from practice and I’m all yours. Your dad said there was some issues with the people there again?” 

Taylor takes a deep breath, glad that he’s there. Glad that she can talk about it. Glad that she knows he wants to listen.

“It’s a nightmare. I told you this morning how they threatened Tree and 13 that I’m contractually obligated to perform because apparently the circumstances aren’t as bad as they need to be for a show like this to be cancelled. Like..” Taylor can barely find words to describe her anger, just feels angry tears following the ones from before while her hands are making a grand gesture.

“I mean, a young girl has died... DIED the day before and they don’t think this is as bad as it gets? And Tree also told them about my little incident last night and…”

“Thank god!” Travis interrupts her. She knows the second he learned about her fainting backstage after the show, was the second he himself started to worry more than she would want him to.

“Yeah but, they basically still wanted us to go through and then they finally agreed to providing free water if we cover the costs. Which is something they shouldn’t even charge anyone for, but like.. of course I would pay for that. I didn't even care. And yet once people started getting seated and the arena got more and more packed, there was no water being handed out to people. Nothing. If… if my team hadn’t flagged this, I probably never would’ve known, Trav and…”

“This is unbelievable.” He just says, sighs deeply and is clearly angry too. He’s sitting on his couch, wearing one of her beloved huge sweaters that she’s been stealing so often. What would she give to cuddle herself into his chest, feel his big arms hold her tight and simply fit her little big world into the palm of his kind hands right now.

“Yup. So I just posted it. On Instagram. Because there was no getting out of the show unless I pull the plug myself. They’re threatening us with a lawsuit now, but..”

“Oh fuck that. No chance.” he says and she nods. Hard to imagine that she doesn’t even care about this possible lawsuit at all. There’s so many other things she cares about more in this moment. 

“Well, besides that. We reached out to Ana’s parents and… they’re in shock. They hate me. They disagreed to speak to me. And..” 

Taylor wants to continue speaking but the lump in her throat is growing to a size that makes it hard to breathe for her.

“I’m sure they don’t hate you.” he says, cannot stand seeing his girl cry all alone in this hotel bed, on the other side of the earth. He’s never been closer to jumping on the next plane there as he’s been right now. 

“Well, they’re in shock I assume. And they have every right to hate me. And then on top of all this the hotel is swarmed by people. They have basically taken the cars we took from the venue because my team covered the license plates. For safety. Literally to not get chased on the fucking high way. But no chance. So now, all we can do is just stay at this hotel and hope for tomorrow to be better and…”

She stops then, knows that she’s just been rambling for a while now. And as much as she hates to present this anxious and crying version of herself to Travis, she kind of feels a lot better all of the sudden. It felt good getting it off her chest. It felt good just telling somebody that she’s not doing well. A few last hiccups escape her mouth and she’s drying her face with her hands. Her eyes are puffy, red and swollen. But she doesn’t even care anymore. There’s so many worse things that can happen than looking like this.

“Oh Tay..” he says then. Doesn’t move from where he sits, just straight up looks at her through his phone. 

“Yup.” she just says, knowing damn well that no one knows what to say about this nightmare weekend. She feels bad all of the sudden to put all these heavy feelings on him, especially because he never asked her to.

“I’m sure every single person you spoke with tonight has said this to you before, but I’ll say it again.” he says then, a serious look on his face. She’s never witnessed him like this before and it definitely draws her attention even more to the screen than before. 

“None of this, was in your power. None of this.” he says, and she knows he means it. Taylor takes another deep shaky breath and looks back at him. She nods. Hearing him say these words almost makes it possible for her to believe them. 

“I know, you take pride in having control over things and organizing and planing things to a tee. But there’s always gonna be stuff out of your control, and sometimes things go horribly wrong. But that’s absolutely out of your control. I hope you know that, babe.”

She looks at him for a moment, doesn’t say anything. Then she nods. Why is it that she believes anything he says? 

“I know. It’s just…” she stops, feels new tears forming. For a moment, she’s collecting herself again. Travis can see what she’s doing. She’s trying to hold back her tears. He hates it. 

“Hey, it’s okay to cry sometimes. Don’t try to play it all cool with me. I hate when you do that.”

Taylor almost starts laughing through her tears, and so does Travis. 

“I just… I’m sure you had an exhausting day today as well and all we talk about is me again. And…”

“Shut up.” Travis interrupts her again, and Taylor just wipes her tears. 

“I had a boring day. All I was thinking about all day was you. I love you. I’m worried about you. Stop playing it cool with me. It’s okay to cry about this.”

Taylor doesn’t move. Her head is leaning against the velvet bed rest behind her. She looks awful and for a moment she doesn’t care because she can feel that he doesn’t. She nods. Tears still streaming down her face.

“I miss you. And... I love you, too.” 

It still feels weird knowing that these words escape her mouth as casually as they do, but it feels so good and so right. She loves him. He loves her. Unbelievably beautiful to travel the world with this knowingness in her heart and head.

Travis sighs deeply from where he is. He slowly sits up. The iPhone camera still right in front of his face. 

“Do you think I’d get in trouble if I call in sick tomorrow and coach Reid sees pictures of me sneaking into your hotel in Rio?” 

Taylor can’t help but laugh quietly. She knows he wants to be there for her. But she’s gonna be fine. Knowing that he’s there, in her life, just a call away, is enough for her to know that she’s gonna be fine. 

“Let’s not get you into any more trouble than you're already in now.” she says jokingly then, for the first time tonight there’s no tears coming down her cheeks. It’s been healing to see his face, to hear his voice. The calm after a storm. A warm hug after a horrible day. That's what this is for her. That's what he's been for her since the moment he walked into her life.

“Tay, I’m worried about you.” He says then, and she knows this time it’s him who’s becoming vulnerable. It feels ridiculously good to know he cares. Even though she’s almost embarrassed to have put him in this position. It’s all new between them, still. He’s never had to deal with her lows before. She never had to ask herself if this could be too much for him, as it has been for everyone before him. 

“Don’t be.” 

“No, I’m serious.” He says then. The look on his face is still gentle and kind but she knows he’s being serious about this.

“I don’t mean the fact that you’re upset or that your show is cancelled but I’m worried about your physical health and your safety. Have you had dinner yet?” 

“Baby, I know you’re worried and it’s so sweet but I can assure you that Tree and my team are taking care of me very well. There’s like five guys in front of my hotel room door right now, and..”

“Have you had dinner yet?” he asks again and she knows he knows. He’s been incredible when it comes to her sometimes problematic eating habits, ever since she told him about this topic. Never before did he ever comment on anything she’s done or hasn’t done in relation to food. But her collapsing backstage last night did something to him. It’s in his eyes, it’s in the way this question comes out of his mouth so firmly. He's scared. He cares.

“I’m still a bit nauseous from the heat and..”

“Did you get an IV?”

“I didn’t need one today. I didn’t perform. So..”

“You said it was incredibly hot in your dressing room? Didn’t you spend all day there? That's not the best way to spend a day before performing for three hours in the heat.”

“Yeah but it was fine. It’s just.. whenever it’s hot I can’t really eat much. So…”

“Baby, please make sure to eat something tonight and drink enough water. I also still think another IV before your show tomorrow would be a good idea.”

She takes a deep breath and nods. He’s right. He always is. But what she appreciates the most in this moment is the tone of his voice. He’s assertive. But he’s gentle. A combination that impressed her from the moment they met. 

“I know.” she just says. 

“I almost had a heart attack when your dad told me you passed out last night.” he says, and she sighs. She knows this incident scared him. She can’t blame him. If she were to ever get a call from his mom, telling her that he fainted on the other side of the world she would probably lose her damn mind. 

“It’s just… performing like that for three hours at 140 degree? It’s horrible.”

“I bet.” he says quickly. “And I’m so glad you cancelled tonight.” 

Taylor nods. Somehow, just hearing him say these things really calms her down slowly. 

“I miss you. I’m not dealing with it too well at the moment.” she says once more, and his mouth turns into this beautiful smile she loves so much. 

“Me too. It’s been so hard focusing on anything after Argentina. After seeing you perform, sleeping in one bed with you. Kissing you good morning. I could get used to that.” 

Taylor smiles instantly, and nods. He speaks her mind, once more.

“Can’t wait to see you next week. Even though I’ll miss Thanksgiving. It breaks my heart, but..”

“Hey, we’ll do our own little post-Thanksgiving dinner. Don’t worry about that.” 

“Trav?”

“Mhm?”

“Thanks for being there for me tonight. I feel so much calmer than I did half an hour ago.”

The man on the other side of the screen smiles at her once more. He’s so happy to be this person for her. He’s so happy to have this effect on her.

“See, that’s what I’ve been telling you all along. Whenever we speak, my day gets 99% better. Just after seeing that face.”

She giggles quietly. 

“How are you? How was practice?” she asks then, wishes she had asked him before earlier. She hates when it’s all about her. He knows that. 

“Was good. Nothing special happened. Just got home, ordered some food and might pop into Brit’s Thanksgiving dinner later tonight.”

“Oh my gosh, yes! How could I forget? Ugh I can’t believe I won’t be able to go. Give her a hug from me okay?”

Travis smiles and nods.

“Of course. I won’t stay long though because I have physiotherapy tomorrow super early.” he sighs and it makes Taylor smile. He usually doesn’t mind getting up early but he definitely does on a Sunday morning. 

“What are you doing now? Are you in your suite?” he asks and Taylor nods. Her tears have finally dried and she fixes the heavy bedsheets over her body. It’s really gotten cold in this room. At least here, the air conditioning works just fine. 

“Yup. It’s like.. eight I think. I’ll just go take a shower and watch some Netflix and that’s it.” she says, clearly not impressed by her plan of the evening now that she won’t play a show in front of thousands of people. 

“Order some food, baby. And dessert. Promise me.”

Taylor smiles slowly, then nods. He’s right. She needs some dessert tonight. 

“Thanks for being there for me.”

“Don’t ever thank me for this again. Of course I’m here for you.”

Taylor smiles, then gets closer to the screen and kisses her phone camera. He laughs quietly.

“Go take a shower now and call me when your dinner has arrived. We can eat together. My lunch should be here in a bit.” 

Taylor nods, sits upright for the first time tonight. That’s actually a better idea than for her to be crying alone watching some Netflix show.

“Sounds great.” She says, slowly gets up and makes her way to the bathroom. 

“I’ll call you in a bit. Okay?” 

“Okay.”

“I love you, baby.”

“Love you.”

A few moments later, Taylor steps out of the shower, dries her body with the soft white cotton towels at the end of the generous bathroom and quickly reaches for the robe on the hanger next to the bathroom door. She slowly covers her still damp body in the white fabric, then leaves the warm bathroom to step back to the main room of her suite. The cold air of the air conditioned room hits her gently. She weirdly can’t find the body lotion she brought. It must still be flying around in her suitcase. 

Taylor slowly crouches down, starts rummaging through her big suitcase. Why is she always so messy when it comes to packing? 

Suddenly, she gets startled by a knock on the door. One knock. Then another. For a second, she stands up. Just ensuring to wrap the fabric of the robe even tighter around her body than before. She slowly makes her way to the door of the suite, still barefoot. Her hair still in a bun from the body shower she just took. 

“Hello?” she asks carefully, can already hear Dustin from her team speaking. 

“Taylor? We have a delivery for you. Do you mind opening up?”

Once more, Taylor clutches onto the robe covering her naked body, making sure she's still fully covered. She carefully opens the door, finds two security men still standing right in front of the door. But to her surprise, Dustin is carrying something very big and very heavy in his arms. She’s confused. White paper covering the package.

“Do you mind if I…?”

Taylor realizes quickly that he needs to place the heavy delivery somewhere. She steps aside, lets him enter the suite. Dustin carefully places the package on the little side table next to the couch of the suite. 

“What’s.. what’s this?” 

“A delivery from the hotel. I was asked by Tree to bring it to you directly.” 

Taylor looks confused, just covers her mouth as Dustin proceeds to peel off the paper from the top of it. Behind the packaging, a massive bouquet of red roses becomes visible. It’s a ball of flowers. She’s never seen so many put so beautifully together. 

“Oh my god? What…”

“This is the card for you.” he says, smiles warmly at her and proceeds to leave the suite again. Taylor just remains standing there. The door falling into the lock, her robe still a little bit too big on her, both eyes on the beautiful roses in the middle of her living room. She quickly opens the envelops that Dustin just passed to her. For a moment she reads these printed words. Then she looks back at the flowers and smiles. The biggest smile she's smiled in days.

Because I’m always with you, even when you can’t see me. I’m so proud of you. 

I love you.

Travis

why are his eyelashes longer than mine bro that aint fair 💔 i will forever be jealous of men with long eyelashes lmfaooo 😭😭

CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR (2016)

UHD | Taylor Swift, The Eras Tour, Amsterdam 📸 Aldara Zarraoa, 5 July 2024

David directing: “Scully is so precious and funny and I think she should laugh more 👉🏻👈🏻”

Gillian directing: “AND she FUCKSS!”

In the Blink of an Eye | Bucky Barnes (Mafia AU)

mafia!bucky barnes x f!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: With Bucky Barnes, the mafia lord of New York, as your boyfriend, you're usually safe from any and all harm. With a date night gone wrong and your boyfriend distracted, though, anything can happen in the blink of an eye.

A/N: Another one of my favorites because come on, who doesn't love mob Bucky? If you couldn't tell by now, angst is my thing lol, but I'm working on some fluffier oneshots! True to my word, this one's a reader insert for all you lovelies, enjoy and as always keep dreaming 🤍

Warnings: mafia!Bucky, violence, angst, kidnapping, drugging, language, mentions of torture, fluffy ending because I just can't help myself.

Word Count: 5,896

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

I knew the dangers when I started. I knew the risks. I welcomed them, I embraced them. They did not scare me and they haven't even now, so many months later.

We always seem to think we know ourselves so well, that we know what we'd do in every situation. I thought I knew.

Then I fell in love.

When you're in love, well, everything changes. For the first time, there's another person that you cannot live without. For the first time, you begin to realize just how far you'd go to keep that love, to strengthen it. I used to avoid love, used to think it was worthless.

Then I met Bucky Barnes, Wolf of the North and mafia lord of New York, and I fell harder than I ever have before.

I love him more than anything else in my life, and so I took on the risks willingly. When you love someone that deeply, that ardently, nothing is a risk. Besides, I knew that he would do everything in his power to protect me. Bucky would never let anything bad happen to me.

That's where I went wrong. Not in overestimating him, but underrating what can happen in the blink of an eye.

"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"

He acts as though he's heard me, but his eyes are glued to the phone in his hand as we weave through the crowds in the New York night. He never usually ignores me like this, and even though I'm growing annoyed, I'm hurt by his lack of attention too.

"We'll be fine, even if he is he wouldn't be stupid enough to try anything" Bucky brushes off, not even looking up from his phone. I let out a small huff as we approach the front of the bar and nightclub he owns.

Before we make it to the doors, I grab his well-muscled arm and gently tug him to face me. He looks up now, his usually softened ice blue eyes plagued with business and stress.

"I thought tonight was just for us, my love" I remind. Something softens in his gaze but he ices it down and doesn't as much as touch me.

"It is, but I have some business to attend to first" his gravelly voice replies.

"Business?" I ask, lifting an eyebrow and smiling softly at him, "You can get business any night, but I-"

"Just give me ten minutes, Y/N." my boyfriend interrupts, and if it were any other day I'd say something back. Too exhausted from work to want an argument, though, I simply sigh and decide to show him patience.

"Alright, you have 10 minutes."

We walk inside, but before we do I cast one more glance back towards the man who I saw following us. My heart hits the floor when my eyes connect directly with his across the street. His mousy brown hair and disheveled brown leather jacket and white shirt set me on edge, so I quickly turn around and follow Bucky into his club.

As soon as I'm back by his side, he presses a gentle but burning hand to my back, his touch, however small, still intoxicating me after all this time. Normally, he'd lean over and whisper sweet nothings or promises of love in my ear and I'd shiver at the whisper of his voice so near, but now he barely even touches me. His mind is so preoccupied with work, I know that, but it has been all week since this weekend is his rival's gala.

But I feel ignored and unappreciated and it's killing me.

The pounding music of the club wraps around me, making it harder to keep my thoughts straight. Bucky and I walk straight to the back of the club, where his business no doubt waits. He pulls away from me without so much as a goodbye, and my heart tugs. Quickly I grab his hand, making him glance at me.

"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out," I repeat, and I know he said I'll be fine but I need him to be here with me, "Please, stay with me."

"Doll, you're gonna be fine. Now-"

I cut him off, getting frustrated.

"No Bucky! I can fight, sure, but if he-" I interrupt, only for him to cut me right back off.

"Drop it, Y/N. Just go to the bar or something" Bucky growls, pulling out of my grip and walking into the office without a single glance back at me.

My heart cracks.

He's never like this, ever. He's usually so protective it's overbearing, and yet the one time I need that to feel secure, he refuses. I can take care of myself, but I'm not stupid. And no matter how capable and independent I may be, Bucky brings a level of safety to me that I can't describe.

And yet here he is, leaving me alone in his bar with someone following us.

I huff out a sigh and try not to look too forlorn as I traipse over to the bar. Almost as soon as I've arrived and sat at an open bar stool, the bartender who has become somewhat of a friend over the last few months approaches me.

"And how is my favorite customer?" He asks, his hands busy preparing a drink. I shrug, offering him a soft smile.

"I'm alright, Lee," I respond, playing with the edge of my sleeve, "Just a whiskey please."

"Sure thing, Y/N," Lee says, his brows furrowed as he steps away to make my drink. When the glass slides in front of me, I grab onto it with tired fingers.

"So, do you want me to ask what's really going on or do you want me to believe the lie?" The bartender asks, making me raise my gaze from the amber liquid and to my friend's face. He must see the tears gathering in my eyes because a hint of concern grows. I never break like this.

"Believe the lie, please" I nearly whisper, desperate to not have this conversation right now. Lee stares at me for a second longer before nodding.

"Let me know if you need anything else."

When he walks away to take care of another customer, I'm left feeling alone and forgotten in my boyfriend's bar. I sip on the alcohol and seconds turn to minutes, and ten minutes soon becomes twenty. I feel patience slipping and am seconds away from barging into that room and giving my boyfriend a piece of my mind when another voice pipes up beside me.

"I thought tonight was date night," The voice says, and I can't put a face to it. When I turn, the haze of alcohol clears instantly and my spine snaps straight. The music dulls into a hum. The lights grow darker. The color leeches from my body. My hand trembles around the almost empty glass.

It's him. He's got the same messy hair, the same brown jacket. The same hungry eyes.

Instantly, I clamp down hard on my rising panic. I refuse to fall into hysterics of any kind right now. This is the safest place for me to be right now, so I should have nothing to worry about. Instead, I simply shake my head and turn forward, downing the last of my second whiskey.

"You're another kind of stupid if you think anything is going to happen to me in here," I inform, my tone even and calm despite the throbbing, tearing panic within me that makes me want to sprint for Bucky.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm not going to do anything," the man responds, his tone just as even as mine.

I furrow my brows at the ease of his response, but all at once it hits me. My head begins to spin and with each second that passes, my mind begins to fog. No. No. No.

He drugged me.

How did he get it into my drink?

How did I not see it? Smell it? Taste it?

I shove out of my chair so fast that the stool screeches against the hard floor. The sound is absorbed into the mass of the club, though, and an arm snakes around my waist.

"No," I manage out, but the connection between my body and brain seems to be almost severed. The words come out sluggish and far away and when I try to pull from the stalker's hold, my body barely moves.

Instead, I'm left stumbling like I'm drunk with this man guiding me towards the exit as if he's helping me to a cab. The bouncers. Ed and Damien, they won't let him take me. They'll stop him, they'll get him away from me.

"Don't make a scene, Y/N. Your boyfriend isn't even out of his office." My kidnapper's voice slithers into my ear, making my stomach church with nausea.

My boyfriend. Bucky. Oh God, where is Bucky? Why can't I seem to remember where Bucky went? Why he's not here? Why I was alone?

"Bucky, Bucky's gonna-" I slur out, sounding absolutely wasted to the unknowing ear.

"I know, Mr. Barnes going to be so glad I got you home safely," he says suddenly, his entire body shifting tone. I furrow my brows and manage to look and see us just passing Ed and Damien at the door. Even though I can really see straight, I see the two bouncers block the exit when they see me.

"Hey man, what's going on?" I hear Ed ask.

"Nothing much to see, Boss just wanted me to take his lady home," the stalker says, his grip on me tighter than it must appear, "She had a little too much to drink."

Too much to drink? Did I? Why can't I remember what's happening? I didn't think I did but...but maybe I did. Who is this man? He said he's taking me home, maybe Bucky had to cancel date night. It was date night, right?

Both Ed and Damien furrow their brows and look to me, immediate concern drawing on their features when they see the state of me. Some lucid part of me screams to alert them of something, anything, but the thought doesn't come to fruition. It dies somewhere along a neuron and leaves me tripping over my own feet and speechless.

"I've never seen you before, man. How do we know that boss told you to take her home?" Damien asks. My escort doesn't miss a step.

"The Wolf is in states nowadays, isn't he boys?" The stalker replies, and that lucid part sparks up again in protest at the familiar words. That's the code phrase to ensure safety in moments like this.

He knows the code phrase.

They're going to let him take me.

I do what I can to struggle as Ed and Damien step aside, but it only comes across as trying to walk on my own, because the bouncers chuckle slightly.

"Relax Y/N, don't overdo it" Ed quips.

"Rest up, miss. I'll let boss know you got home safely." Damien follows up.

And the lucid part of me fades into the drug haze as my kidnapper guides me out of the safest place on earth without so much of a gun fight. The cool night air slaps me in the face and I whisper, trying to struggle again only to forget why I'm struggling in the first place. My body feels like I'm running through neck-high mud, anyways. Any sharp movements I try to make end in my hands barely moving.

"Bucky," I breathe, an urgency in that word. Beyond the haze and the forgetfulness and the confusion, there's a deep and piercing need to scream out that name. I can't figure out why, but I need him. I can't...I need...

My head's spinning, or maybe it's the world. My stomach is twisting and turning and twisting and turning and tw-

"He can't save you now. He didn't even put up a fight to protect you," that ugly, slimy voice says as a car door opens, "What a shame. A treasure like you should be guarded. But I guess finder's keeper's."

Then I'm shoved into a car and everything goes black.

||| James Buchanan Barnes

Y/N's going to actually kill me. As in my liver on a plate kill me.

The meeting that I promised would only be ten minutes has now gone for forty, and by now she's probably restless, hungry, and a little tipsy.

Great, and I pissed her off earlier so tonight is going to be so much fun.

I pull a hand through my dark hair with a slight groan as the man I was doing business with finally leaves my office. I sit for a second in the semi-quiet of my room, the pounding of music and laughter dulled by the walls. I know I shouldn't have gotten short with her earlier, but damn she wouldn't let up on me with the whole "stalker" thing.

My club is the safest place for her. I would never let anything happen to her, so for her to even think that...I sigh again, shoving it from my mind. It doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is finding my girlfriend and making all of this shit up to her. I rise from my leather chair and walk out of my office, the dulled sounds roaring into full force.

My eyes immediately shoot towards the bar to find my girl only to see an absence of her. With furrowed brows, I sweep my gaze towards the dance floor. Even crowded with people, I don't see her. I roll my eyes instantly, knowing what probably happened. She probably went home, probably's pissed as hell at me. I brush off my suit jacket and walk up to Lee at the bar, immediately garnering his attention. He smiles at me.

"Hey boss, can I get you anything?" He asks.

"No I'm good, thanks Lee," I respond, leaning on the bar with one arm and pinching the bridge of my nose, "Have you seen Y/N? I think I pissed her off."

There's a pause that makes me look over at my bartender. He's looking at me weirdly as he slides a drink to a customer and laughs slightly.

"Real funny, boss," Lee says, cleaning out a few glasses. I straighten up slightly, my brows furrowing deeper and my jaw setting.

"What's so funny, Lee? Have you seen her or not?" I ask, quickly losing my patience. I always thought he had a thing for her, always was too-

"Are you fucking with me right now?" Lee asks genuinely, cutting off my thoughts. When I don't respond, he realizes I'm not joking and his face goes grave, "So you didn't send her home twenty minutes ago?"

The world tilts around me and every ounce of anger, annoyance, and frustration leaves me in an instant. My heart drops like an anchor at sea and I don't dare to believe what Lee's words mean.

"She left twenty minutes ago," I begin slowly, trying desperately to hold myself together and not jump to a conclusion, "With someone who said I sent them to take her home."

Lee's face is slowly falling as he realizes the situation at hand. I feel so sick to my stomach that I can barely stand when Lee gives a faint nod. My world stops and then starts and then stops again.

"I never gave that order." I breathe.

"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"

I brushed her off.

"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out. Please, stay with me."

I ignored her. I snapped at her. I prioritized work over the light of my life. I told her she'd be fine.

I left her.

Lee is saying something to me but I don't hear it as I shove away and storm over to Ed and Damien, my bouncers. My face is a painting of fury and shame and worry and panic and it's a storm that catches Ed and Damien's attention. They stop what they're doing and look to me, their brows furrowing.

"Boss, what's-"

"You let her leave?" I strangle out, my heart slamming in my chest and my fists balled by my sides, "You let a stranger take her away?"

The two share a confused glance before looking back to me.

"A stranger? Boss, the man who took Y/N home knew the code," Ed informs.

"Did you not send him?" Damien suddenly asks, his face tightening in instant panic.

He knew the code. He knew the code and he somehow got my doll, my fighter, out without so much of a warning.

And it's all my fault.

"Shut the club down, get everyone out. Call together all of our forces. Tell them-" My voice breaks, raw emotion clawing up my throat, "Tell them Y/N's been taken."

I don't wait for a response and shove out into the cold night, gasping for air like a fish out of water. I was so obsessed with the gala this week that Hydra, our arch nemesis, was putting on, that I stopped paying attention to the only part of my life that matters. I have a lot of things, all of which I could live without, but I cannot live without her.

And I left her.

I left her and now she's gone.

She tried to warn me, she tried to tell me someone was following us. She tried to get me to stay with her, to not leave her. And yet I walked away. I just walked away like she didn't even matter and I left vulnerable and alone the only person in this entire fucking universe I love. It's all my fault, and I'll spend every second of the rest of my life trying to make it up to her.

If I can even find her in time, before she-

No. I will find her and she will live. I will burn down this whole damn world if I have to, and I will not stop. Not until every person who laid a finger on my girl is dead. I will paint the world crimson with their blood until I find her, and once I do I will never, never, ignore or leave her again.

That's not a threat. It's a promise.

||| Your POV

The collar secured to my throat is too tight, the metal no doubt leaving red grooves in my skin.

It hurts worse when Alexander Pierce, the mafia lord of Hydra, tugs the matching chain leash attached to it, pulling me closer to him and almost making me stumble mid-step.

The gala is glamorous, and my gown is nothing short of it as well. Pierce even went through the trouble of having someone do my hair. What he didn't do was my makeup.

That way anyone could see the dried blood and bruises littering my skin.

It's a scare tactic, I know that. A way to signal to everyone here that he's in charge and that he can't be defied. But I think he's got a bigger reason in mind for it all, the collar and the hideous marks on my skin.

And that reason is my boyfriend.

I can practically feel people's eyes follow me as I walk as steadily as I can at the end of Pierce's leash. Despite the radiating, excruciating pain that each step incurs, I keep my body steady and my chin high. I let the policemen and officials that are on his payroll and all of the members of his mafia see my bruises and cuts. He's parading me, so I'm going to put on a damn show.

A show to hide how mind-numbingly terrified I am right now.

Behind my set jaw and my cold eyes, I'm fighting back tears. The pain is mixing with the fear of the last few days to make a perfect storm within me. I'm terrified that any moment could be my last, that more pain could await me, that Bucky might never come for me

Or worse. That he doesn't even care.

Regardless of whether or not he cares, I'm still not going to give a single detail out. Even when Pierce himself tortured me until all I knew was blood and pain and fear, I said nothing. He didn't get a single word out of me. I just sat there, strapped to an iron chair, and took it. Every blow, every slice, every shout. At times my mind spared me and allowed me to slip into the sweet nothingness of unconsciousness, but it wouldn't be long after that I awoke to my head shoved into cold water to revive me.

And here I am, now taking a seat at the Dias of his gala room beside the mafia lord of Hydra, my boyfriend's sworn rival, with a collar around my neck tied to his wrist.

The music that wafts from the live orchestra is disturbingly jovial and light, filling the air with a sense of peace that provides such a stark juxtaposition to my insides that I almost puke. I sit ever so stiffly in my chair beside Pierce, my back burning with each movement because of the new stripes across its tender flesh.

As I feel warm liquid slide down my skin, I suddenly understand why Pierce insisted my dress be a dark maroon. I thought it was as at first just a beacon to everyone to show who I was with because it was his signature color, but I know better now. It's to hide the blood that seeps from my still-healing and probably infected wounds.

"Exquisite, isn't it?" Pierce asks, and I don't even have to turn towards him to know he wears a devilish smirk. A cruel man's trademark of victory.

I stay silent.

I hear him click his tongue as he sits back in his ornate chair, "All this quality time together and all I've heard from your voice has been your screams. No matter how pretty they are, doesn't seem polite to me."

This time, I can't hold myself back.

"Neither is kidnapping another human being and treating them like a prisoner of war," I announce, my voice raw and hoarse from the screaming and shouting of the past few days, "So pardon me if I'm not feeling too polite."

It's a bold move, but I make it anyways, gambling that he wouldn't lash out in the midst of his party. A little breath of relief escapes me when he chuckles.

"And here I was under the impression you were a sweet, soft-spoken sort of woman. My sources misjudged you." Pierce responds.

Of course he's been watching me. A scheme like this doesn't happen overnight. He's been planning this for a while, now. Pierce knew exactly when Bucky would be most vulnerable, when the defenses would be the loosest. It makes me want to scream.

"You're going to die for this," I whisper, quietly but not softly. There's his laugh again.

"Oh honey," Pierce starts, his voice condescending as if I were a toddler, "Careful with blind faith. What makes you so sure Barnes will make it out of this alive?"

His words unsettle something so deep within me that if I spend more than a few seconds touching on it, I'll shatter. Instead, I turn to look at Alexander Pierce for the first time since we've sat down. My eyes are cold and harsh upon him and the shining metal of the collar that tethers us.

"What makes you so sure it will be Bucky who kills you?"

He has the good sense to look the slightest bit unnerved, and I give him a smirk of my own, "Like you said before, your men sorely misjudged me."

Before he can respond, one of the guards that stands behind us steps forward and whispers something in the mafia lord's ear. Whatever he says makes Pierce grin fiercely as he looks back to me and gives the collar a tug.

"Your White Wolf is here."

My heart jumps so hard that I forget how to function. For a moment, everything else fades and dims away, even the biting pain wrapping me like a blanket of thorns. I snap my head back forward and when I see him I swear I almost break right then and there.

Because his eyes are already on me, and they're coated with fury.

It takes every ounce of strength I have to not dissolve into tears, to not let my fear show.

He's here.

He's here.

Bucky found me.

When our eyes meet, something so primal and raw ignites in his features. He looks seconds away from shattering as his chest heaves, his eyes scouring every inch of me. I feel undone before him, as if the dress doesn't hide a single thing that Pierce and his men have done to me.

"James Barnes," Pierce announces, snapping the connection between us swiftly, "I thought you'd never come. I hope you don't mind, I think I've stolen your date for the evening."

Then he wraps his palm around the chain leash and yanks it so hard that I nearly tumble out of the chair. His hand is there to stop me as it grabs my jaw in a bruising grip. Pierce hums, turning my face side to side before forcing it forward to the crowd that now watches. Bucky is painted with dark rage and looks seconds away from ending Pierce's life.

"She makes quite the pretty pet."

Bucky begins to storm forward only for two of the guests who belong to Pierce's mafia to grip onto his arms and prevent him.

"Take your fucking hand off of her, Pierce, or I swear I'll-" Bucky growls, and hearing his voice is enough to ease some of the knot that's wound in my chest these last few days.

"You'll what?" Alexander asks, releasing my chin but remaining ever so calmly in his seat beside me, "You must not care that much for my pet, after all you were the one to ignore her."

There's a bone-crushing silence and I see that same something shatter in my love's gaze.

"You shoved her off, you left her alone," Alexander cuts out, reaching out and running a hand through my hair, "You so carelessly let her slip through your fingers and here you are pretending to care."

"What I did was unforgivable, I know that," Bucky says suddenly, and I see even from here the silver lining his eyes as he speaks, "But she is a good person. She doesn't deserve this. If you need to punish someone, don't let it be her."

"You don't deserve her," Pierce says, and I want to scream that he's wrong but Bucky cuts me off. His eyes clash with mine and I fall in love all over again.

"I know," he says so softly that I almost miss it. I try to shake my head 'no', but Pierce tightens the collar, making me whimper.

Bucky shoves off the two men holding him, composing himself and standing stiffly a good ways before us.

"Let her go, Pierce," Bucky reiterates, his tone harsh once more and his stare pure murder, "I won't ask again."

Pierce clicks his tongue beside me, letting up on my leash to let me relax slightly.

"Oh Barnes, did you really waltz in here thinking you'd walk back out?"

There's a deadly silence and I swear you can hear my heart smash into the floor even though I expected this. With every second between his last words and his next, I grow more panicked.

"I have you surrounded, Barnes. You're not getting out of this," Pierce announces. Bucky doesn't look the least bit unnerved, though.

Pierce reaches you to an ear piece I didn't know was there and touches it, "Guns at attention."

From my spot next to him, all I hear is static. There's no response coming back, and the confusion becomes evident on Alexander's face at the same moment I realize what's going on. Hope like a new sunrise breaks in me and I look over at Bucky to find him smirking. He winks at me once before furrowing his brows at Pierce.

"What's wrong, can't reach your men?" Bucky taunts.

And then all Hell breaks loose.

Guns are firing and people are screaming and within seconds, Bucky's mafia that's already infiltrated the gala hall appears from the woodwork, their guns raised and keeping the few mafia members left under gun point. Bucky just stands coolly in the midst as another deadly silence blankets the room. I can practically feel the rage draining off of Alexander.

"Get him!" Pierce suddenly shouts, and what few men are left charge at Bucky. Including the personal guards around us. The gunfire begins again, and the classy event is soon painted crimson.

I take the brief moment of chaos to my advantage and shoot up from my seat. As soon as Pierce registers that I'm moving, it's too late. Despite the screaming of my body, I sprint behind Pierce's chair and brace one heeled foot at its back. Then, before he can reach for a gun, I wrap the leash he's collared me with around his neck and pull back, strangling him with the own device he subjected me under.

His hands claw desperately at the chain and I feel my exhausted muscles trembling, but I refuse to let up. I keep holding the chain tighter and snap my gaze up in Bucky's direction just in time to see him shoot a guard between the eyes.

"Bucky!" I shout, gaining his attention instantly.

I know I can't hold Pierce off much longer, so Bucky will need to help me take him down while I've got him strangled to the chair. The metal is cutting deep into his skin when Bucky begins fighting desperately to reach us. Before he can, though, Pierce gets a purchase on the chain and yanks with such force that it sends my body flying over him and the chair. I land flat on my back so hard on the tile that the air rushes out of my lungs and every cut and tear rips open.

"Y/N!" Bucky roars, and it rattles my very bones

I gasp and groan in pain simultaneously, desperately trying to get air into my lungs. The second I can breathe again, Pierce is dragging me backwards by the chain.

"No!" I shout, reaching up and gripping the chain before yanking it.

We tug back and forth as he drags me, but I manage to hook my foot around one of the overturned chairs and use the leverage to yank the chain so hard that I hear a snap followed by a shrill yell.

I just broke his wrist.

When I pull again, the chain comes free and a weight lifts from my shoulders. I scramble to my feet, about to sprint away and towards where I last saw Bucky when Pierce's hands grip my shoulders and rip me back. I don't even have time to scream when my back is slammed into a hard wall and Pierce is before me, a knife in his unmangled hand that's pressed to my cheek.

"You little bitch" he seethes.

My chest is heaving with breath and panic as I read back and spit in his face as hard as I can. He recoils slightly and I relish in it. My happiness only lasts a second, though, because his knife is pressing into my cheek. I try to squirm but his body is pressed firmly to mine and pins me to the wall.

"I so didn't want to end you this quickly," Pierce whispers, his voice slithering against my skin.

I keep trying to be strong, to be so strong, but it's getting harder to keep up. I try to not show my fear, but it's getting harder and harder to hide. I feel myself finally breaking after the hell that these last few days have been and just when I think he's going to end it all, he's gone. In a moment, he's off of me and unconscious on the ground.

And Bucky is standing before me, his chest heaving and his eyes wild.

"Bucky," I breathe, already feeling my strength slip away.

I don't have to be strong anymore.

Bucky drops the gun he just rendered Pierce unconscious with, every inch of his face softening upon my bloody, trembling form. He looks a minute away from crying when I stumble forward and crash into him, letting myself break down in his arms that already wrap around my waist and keep me upright. He keeps me so tight to himself that there is no room between us. I bury my face into his neck and let out a sob, my tears mixing with the blood on his suit. I can't tell which of us is shaking harder, but all I can tell is the warmth and security that Bucky's hands bring me.

"Oh doll," Bucky whispers, sending a shiver down my spine, "You're alive. You're alive."

I mumble some sort of affirmation, but I can barely think straight.

"I'm so sorry, doll. I'm so sorry." Bucky repeats it over and over again, "God, Y/N I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Buck. It's alright," I whisper, but he keeps shaking his head. He pulls back far enough to meet my gaze.

"I've been shitty to you. I should've listened to you, I should never have left you. I am never leaving you again."

"It's okay, I forgive you," I repeat, brushing a bloody hand against his jaw, "Of course it's gonna cost you at least four new pairs of shoes."

At my joke, a laugh of pure relief to have me back in hands escapes his lips. I chuckle softly too, taking in every inch of his breathtaking face. A tear drops down his cheek and he leans his forehead against mine.

"I love you so much, I love you more than life." he breathes.

"I love you too. That's all that kept me breathing, loving you,"I respond, and his lips are on mine in an instant.

Even though it's only been a few days, kissing him feels like I've been in a drought and he's my water. The kiss is desperate and pleading and consuming. It steals whatever strength is left in my knees and I link my arms around his neck to support myself. When he finally pulls away, he leaves a trail of kisses to my nose and then my forehead before tugging me to himself again.

"I'm going to tear him apart for this," Bucky vows, and I know it shouldn't but I still let out a breath of relief at that.

"Is that why he's not dead yet?" I ask, chuckling softly. He does the same, kissing the top of my head.

"That's exactly why," Bucky agrees, pulling back and rubbing a finger along my cheek. He becomes serious again and I feel my heart flutter.

"When I found out you were gone, I lost myself." He says, his throat bobbing as he Cho's my face with his large hands, "Y/N, there is no me without you"

I turn to kiss his hand before leaning into it more.

"I'll always find my way back to you. You're all I have, James"

Another tear works down his cheek before he finally steps to the side. The gala is trashed, but the gunfire is over. Apparently, his men were here hours before anyone else got here. I feel my strength abandoning me, so I lean my weight onto Bucky. He feels this and immediately scoops me into his arms, holding me close to his chest.

"I'm going to kiss every one of these scars when we get back" His voice rumbles, and I smile as I lean my head further into him.

"Let's go home, my love"

And he held up his promise. He never left me again.

“Sorry I just lost a- sorry. Yeah, yeah…uh- hang on my mic just fell.”

Travis Kelce on stage at The Eras Tour London N3